


Reflection

by AgentCoop



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Consensual Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smut, Top Victor Nikiforov, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 10:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCoop/pseuds/AgentCoop
Summary: We’re gonna sit at our table and eat together. And then we’re going to come back to this room, with this mirror, and I’m gonna fuck you until you come so hard…”Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to breathe.“...and you’re gonna watch me come inside you.”________________________________________________________________________________________________OR Victor wants Yuuri to see himself the way he's always viewed him. Absolute perfection.





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks all for reading! 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://iamagentcoop.tumblr.com/)  
> or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/agentcoop1)  
> 

“So, when do you think they're gonna fuck?” 

Yuuri’s head shot up from his computer, and he spun his chair to face Victor.

“What the hell?”

Victor grinned and pointed towards the screen, where a video of pairs competitors Michele and Sara Crispino where executing yet another flawless short program.

Yuuri sputtered and threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “They’re siblings, Victor! Jesus.”

Victor just grinned harder. “Eh, but Italian. Could happen.” He quirked a grin and studied Yuuri who was absolutely adorable--completely at a loss for words and his wire-framed glasses perched askew on top of his forehead. Victor walked forward and perched on the stool adjacent to Yuuri’s desk. “Pretty sure those lenses only actually help if they’re placed in front of your eyes, you know.”

“Huh?” Yuuri squinted at him a moment, he tried to look straight up, then reached up and pulled the frames back down. “What are you--hold on.” He spun back around and hit a few keys, pausing the replay on the screen, the looked back to Victor. “What are you talking about?”

Victor crossed his arms, and then folded over on the desk, head propped sideways in the crook of his elbow. “I’ve called your name at least ten times now. Dinner’s ready.”

Yuuri cringed. “Shoot, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to catch up on rankings right now and I still need to pull the men’s longs from Worlds last year and study that, and–” he trailed off for a moment and looked behind Victor --back at a corkboard that was adorned with furious scribbled pages of notes and statistics and enough arrows and lines to give an actual detective a migraine. 

“So. The fucking?” Victor spoke lazily from where his head layed on the desk, but he watched Yuuri’s every move from under hooded eyes.

“Oh my God, Victor, no. They aren’t fucking each other.”

Victor saw the flush creeping up from Yuuri’s neck. He wanted to kiss up and down Yuuri’s jaw until he shivered and came apart underneath Victor’s tongue. He wanted to listen to Yuuri say fuck in his hushed and murmured voice over and over and over again.

“Besides,” Yuuri continued primly, “It’d would be like fucking yourself.” He looked down at his desk in embarrassment, then side-eyed Victor. “Like looking in a mirror. While fucking. Or something...”

Victor pushed himself up from the desk and sat straight. “Sounds intriguing. Maybe I’ll buy _us_ a mirror.” He watched with glee as the flush spread to Yuuri’ cheeks. 

“Yeah, well. Not gonna happen.” Yuuri rubbed at his face with the back of his hand. He was flustered. Victor loved it when he was flustered. “Yuuri is too good for fucking Victor.” He paused, then added petulantly, “because Victor’s an asshole.” 

“Yeah, but he’s a cute asshole.” Victor stood up, watching Yuuri’s eyes close, watching Yuuri lean towards him. They met for a kiss, then Victor reached forward and smoothed back a few stray strands of blond from Yuuri’s forehead. “Finish your obsessive studying. Dinner’ll hold.” 

“Thanks, Victor.”

Yuuri turned back to his computer and Victor got up, heading towards the door. He paused again by the wall. Pinned to the cork board were dozens of pages of notes, profiles of every senior skater who’d graced a competition world wide, point values of every conceivable combination. Obsessive charts and statistics and calculations projecting future results. Yuuri didn’t need all this. He was a man of pure art. He just hadn’t learned to trust himself completely yet.

Victor looked back to him--hunched over his computer watching furiously. His glasses were perched on top of his head again, and Victor rolled his eyes. He left the room and quietly closed the door, then walked back into the kitchen and gave the soup another stir. He thought for a moment, and sat down at his laptop. Pulled up Amazon.com. Started searching for large mirrors.

***

Yuuri walked in the front door of the apartment and stripped off his coat with a sigh of contentment. No matter what his age, the amazing, freeing feeling of finally being home never seemed to diminish. He paused for a moment, relishing the peace, then wandered towards the kitchen. The lights were on, so Victor was around, but it was silent. He called out softly, “Victor?” 

“In the bedroom!”

Yuuri smiled, then turned down the hallway and opened the bedroom door. “What’re you doing back here with the door closed? I come home too soon?”

Victor sat on their bed, watching him with hooded eyes. 

“What?” Yuuri stepped in the room and followed Victor’s gaze.. 

Directly on top of the chest-of-drawers at the foot of the bed, sat an enormous, hideously-ugly mirror complete with a gilt frame. Yuuri stopped, and looked back at Victor, who had crossed his arms in front of his chest, and had leaned back on the decorative pillows that framed the headboard. He was grinning.

“Nope.” Yuuri shook his head as he walked over to the bed. “No way. Not in a million years.”

Victor stood up suddenly and stepped towards Yuuri. There was less than an inch of space between the press of their bodies. Yuuri looked up into at those liquid eyes and shook his head again. “No, Victor, I’m not--” 

\--he cut off as Victor placed a finger over his lips. 

“Hear me out.” Victor’s troublesome grin grew wider. “It’s purely for reference purposes. Of course.”

Yuuri shook his head away from the finger, his face heating up. “I am absolutely NOT watching the reflection of ourselves fucking for your amusement, _Nikiforov_. And I’m certainly not…” he sputtered, “not...watching myself in a mirror because you’ve come up with some inane idea born of a bizarre affliction for incest.” 

\-- but even as he spoke, he thought about watching Victor. Watching Victor enter him from behind. Watching Victor move inside of him. Watching Victor’s face as he came inside of him.

“Yeah…” 

Victor’s voice jolted him back to reality and Yuuri swallowed, half hard.

“That’s what I thought.” Victor reached out and cupped Yuuri’s chin He leaned forward and whispered softly in Yuuri’s ear. “I’m gonna make us some dinner. We’re gonna sit at our table and eat together. And then we’re going to come back to this room, with this mirror, and I’m gonna fuck you until you come so hard…”

Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to breathe. “...and you’re gonna watch me come inside you.” 

The words were barely spoken, but Victor’s breath ghosted over Yuuri’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. He moaned quietly, then quickly put a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound. Victor pressed a quick kiss to his temple, then turned and walked from the room.

Yuuri shook his head, trying to clear the sudden ringing in his ears. He was not going to do this. This was ridiculous.

That’s not what Victor seemed to think.

He looked back towards the mirror. He pictured Victor behind him again, pressing against him, reaching around and cupping his--

\--Yuuri gulped, and followed Victor out of the room.

***

Dinner was torture.

Victor had somehow found time to ‘whip up’ an entire pot roast with roasted vegetables. Clearly he’d been planning this all day.

Yuuri couldn’t quite find it in himself to hold it against him. 

They ate, and Victor asked him about training, about jumps, about the weather. Victor talked about his own rink time, and the obnoxious fans who wanted his autograph also.. Yuuri rolled his eyes at that. Victor was a diva and if there ever came a day where there _weren’t_ obnoxious fans waiting outside the rink for him, he’d probably decide to hurl himself from a very tall cliff in protest. 

Still, even though Yuuri tried to participate, his own answers were short and uninspired. His left leg kept bouncing. He’d swallow a bite, then put down his fork, drink a sip, look to see if Victor was finished. 

It was interminable. 

 

Finally, Victor had the decency to stop eating. 

“Somewhere to be, Yuuri?”

“Fuck off.”

Victor smiled at him, then stood up and started clearing the dishes. Yuuri could see the outline of his dick, already pressing against the soft fabric of his hand-pressed trousers. He smiled. At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. He leaned back in his chair and watched Victor with raised eyebrows.

“This would go quicker if you know...you wanted to actually help,” Victor spoke jokingly.

Yuuri didn’t move. “This was your idea, Nikiforov. I’m enjoying the show.”

Victor shrugged and brought the last of the dishes to the sink. He walked back slowly, and stopped at Yuuri’s right hand side, leaning casually against the edge of the table. Yuuri couldn’t take it any longer. His chair tipped back as he stood, reaching out with both hands and roughly pulling Victor’s head to him. They kissed, lips pressing fiercely against each other. Victor moaned underneath him, then used his momentum to reverse their positions. He straddled Yuuri’s legs, pushing up against him. The heat between their bodies was too intense--

\--he pulled away and Yuuri tried to follow. Victor tangled his hand in Yuuri’s hair, looking directly at him. 

“I need to brush my teeth.”

Yuuri groaned and tried to tug away, but Victor held him tight. “You’re such a romantic, Victor.”

Victor grinned. “Sorry. I promise I’ll be better with minty-fresh breath.”

He finally let go and Yuuri threw his head back in mock disgust. “Fine.” Victor peeled off of him and adjusted himself before heading down the hall. “But I get the bathroom after you.”

Victor looked back for just a moment. “See you soon.”

***

They stood across the room from each other, the giant mirror between them reflecting onto the empty bed. 

Yuuri looked as nervous as Victor felt. Victor breathed a sigh of relief. He’d thought about this before; he’d unlocked that secret space inside of his head occasionally when he was by himself, in the shower, in the bedroom, in the kitchen...always alone. But this was new; this was different. He was in charge here, and he wasn’t alone, and Yuuri was once again relinquishing control, but this time, somewhere new, somewhere off the ice.

Victor was already hard at the thought.

“Hey,” he whispered. His own voice was muffled in his ears--his consciousness was a steady throb of heat and static. 

Yuuri smiled cautiously. “Hey, back.”

Victor reached down and unbuttoned his shirt. Yuuri stepped forward and Victor shook his head ever so slightly. “No. Not yet. Stay there.” He smiled, and swallowed--his throat suddenly dry. 

Yuuri nodded slowly, and then unzipped and cast aside his track jacket, pulled off his own shirt, and then reached down to unbutton his pants, letting them slide to the ground. He stepped gracefully over the small pile, then stilled. Victor read Yuuri’s tension in his bare toes that clenched against the wood floor. He saw goosebumps appear on Yuuri’s flesh. He fought the urge to cross the room and take Yuuri in his arms. 

It was better this way. He relished the thickness to the air, the wait.

“You’re forgetting something.” His voice sounded hoarse, and he swallowed again. 

“Hardly seems fair, Victor. You’re still in your pants.” 

Yuuri’s voice pitched slightly higher than normal. He was nervous. Victor raised his eyebrows, and Yuuri closed his eyes before slipping out of his briefs. His cock sprung free, fully erect, and Victor suppressed a moan. Yuuri was perfect. Flawless. _His_.

Yuuri stepped forward again. 

“Don’t.” Victor spoke firmly, and Yuuri froze. Victor took his time, looking over every perfect feature from across the room and Yuuri squeezed his eyes closed, breathing harshly. His cock wavered, already glistening with pre-come. Victor’s breathing came in hard gasps, and he couldn’t last any longer without Yuuri in his arms. He crossed the room in a few short strides, and pulled Yuuri in front of the mirror with him. He leaned down and kissed Yuuri, long and hard. He tasted the mint from his mouthwash, tasted his breath in his throat. 

Yuuri leaned in, moaning. The sound shot straight through Victor, down to his knees as he grew impossibly hard against the confines of his pants. Yuuri reached down to fumble at the zipper, and Victor let him, letting the clothing fall away. They pressed against each other, skin hot and tight--tingling with anticipation. He could feel the slight dampness from Yuuri against his thigh. 

It was almost too much. 

He broke away from the embrace, and spun Yuuri around--facing the mirror. Victor fisted his right hand through Yuuri’s hair, leaning in to lick up the side of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri shuddered and swallowed underneath him. His eyes were still closed. Victor kissed against Yuuri’s earlobe for a moment, then whispered. “Open your eyes.”

“Mm, no, Victor.”

“Open your eyes, Yuuri.”

“Victor…” Yuuri whined underneath him and Victor reached down, gently running his finger along the underside of his dick while tugging on his hair. “Open. Your. Eyes.”

Yuuri groaned and tried to thrust forward, to gain some friction, but Victor drew his hand back. Yuuri met Victor’s gaze in the mirror.

“Jesus...Victor...I…”

Yuuri swallowed again and Victor saw the blush creep from his cheeks down to his shoulders. Victor kissed down the back of his neck, watching in the mirror. 

“Please…” Yuuri halted. Sweat beaded on his brow,, and he pushed back against Victor’s erection. “Please...touch me. I need...I need you to…” he gasped as Victor pinched one nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. Yuuri bucked against him. Victor pressed downwards, trailing his fingers against Yuuri’s chest, stomach, down to his thigh. Yuuri closed his eyes again, and Victor drew away. “Uh uh. Keep ‘em open.”

Yuuri tensed underneath him and opened his eyes. The mirror reflected them both and he met Victor’s gaze once again. Victor smiled and kissed along his neck. “There you go.” He pressed down against Yuuri’s abdomen before wrapping his hand along Yuuri’s length and stroking. “You’re perfect.”

Yuuri shuddered against him. It was almost too much to feel Yuuri’s skin against his own while watching through the mirror. But he was in control. 

He was in control.

He kept stroking and pulled Yuuri back towards him, easing them back to the edge of the bed. Yuuri tried to turn his head, searching for Victor’s mouth, trying to draw him into a kiss. Victor relished being able to watch every second. Yuuri was so hard underneath his hand, and Victor wanted to be inside of him more than anything--wanted to feel him intimately, feel the warmth and watch every moment, every expression, watch every sound escape from his mouth.

Yuuri was never the quiet one.

He released his hold on Yuuri, and Yuuri whimpered. 

“Hold on, pal.” 

Victor reached across the bed for a quick second, then was back--right arm now wrapped around Yuuri’s chest, cradling him, and left hand pressing down, reaching behind and pressing gently in.

“Please. Please, Victor, please…”

It was a soft chant, a chorus, and it was electrifying. “Just wait,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri was watching now, watching every movement and moaning underneath him, each cry of his mantra growing louder. Victor quickly covered his mouth with his right hand, feeling the warmth of his tongue, the shuddering of his breath.

“Neighbors, Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded, his eyes wide and pupils blown. He was panting now, desperate. Victor inserted a third finger and Yuuri pushed back onto him, hard.

***

Yuuri watched Victor through the reflection in the mirror and Victor was looking back.

It stirred something within him--a full-body shudder coursed through his muscles and he watched Victor bite back a moan behind him. Victor’s hand was stroking over his skin, his chest, his cock, and watching it happen was almost too much. He could feel Victor moving inside of him; he felt deliciously full with it, and he rocked back in rhythm watching as each new expression of pleasure crossed Victor’s face. 

Victor leaned over again and kissed alongside Yuuri’s neck once more, right at that perfect spot behind his earlobe, and he loved that, Victor knew he loved that, and this time he could see Victor’s eyes still watching him, watching for him to melt into that brush of his lips and he did,

he melted,

they were still moving in time with each other and now Victor’s hand was firmly wrapped around Yuuri’s cock, smooth and warm, it was all too much…

Yuuri gasped. “Victor...Vic--I’m gonna come, Victor...wait…”

and that boyish grin on his face was unbearable, just watching this felt like a sin,

it felt like sunlight,

“Victor, I...I’m…”

Yuuri jerked in Victor’s hand and came.

Victor closed his eyes, giving a moan from behind and thrust a few more times, then gripped Yuuri hard around the waist--held him there. They were so close it was almost painful, and Yuuri could still feel him inside, and could feel that huge exhale of breath, that sigh of relief.

They stayed there for a moment, still attached, still breathing as one, come cooling between Yuuri’s belly and Victor’s hand. They pulled apart, laughing, smiling. Victor collapsed backwards on the bed, and Yuuri crawled up next to him.

They were both sweating. Victor was glowing, looking sticky and rueful. He shrugged his shoulders, almost embarrassed. He looked down, playing with a stray thread on the comforter. 

“Should I return it, then?”

Yuuri barked a laugh, then reached over and across Victor to grab at a couple of washcloths placed with some decent semblance of forethought by the bed.

He handed a washcloth over to Victor, who wiped at his hands. Yuuri moved to clean up his own mess.

Victor stopped him.

“Should I return it?” He still looked shy, almost timid. But there was a splash of mischief in his eyes and he rolled over and pinned Yuuri down, then bent over and licked at the come on Yuuri’s abdomen. 

Yuuri groaned and clenched his eyes closed, balled up his fists and tried not to move. It felt amazing and sometimes he loved Victor so much he just...he just…

He let Victor finish cleaning him with his tongue, then cracked one eye. He met Victor’s eyes in the mirror.

“We’re keeping it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a rewritten version of a fic I posted for a different fandom a few years back. I just couldn't help myself in rewriting for Victor and Yuuri!
> 
> (And YES I feel like a hack for doing it, but also, I rewrote large sections of this in getting it ready to move, and you know what? I LIKE THIS VERSION JUST AS MUCH ;) )
> 
> (And YES I realize that Michele and Sara aren't pairs skaters but they worked ;) )


End file.
